


Bring me to life

by azziria



Series: Why don't you try me? [6]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-03
Updated: 2011-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 08:25:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gathers some interesting intel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring me to life

**Author's Note:**

> A _Try me_ vignette, Steve's POV. Follows [Open your eyes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/158547), but can be read as a standalone.

Chin’s following an electronic paper trail of bank transfers via Singapore to Zurich and back to Singapore again, and Kono’s following up a lead with an old Coral Prince buddy of hers out on the North Shore somewhere, which means that he and Danny draw the short straw on the stakeout, and get to spend a lot of hours cooped up together in an over-furnished guest bedroom belonging to an old lady who just happens to have the misfortune to live next door to the house their suspects are currently occupying.

It’s not like the last time they were on this sort of stakeout. Then, Danny was _Danny_ , touchy and cocksure and ranting on about Rachel and Stan and how ludicrously over-ostentatious their lifestyle was. This time Danny’s still touchy, but he’s also far too quiet and doing his best not to look at Steve, which is not a good sign. He’s still not actually _said_ anything about whatever it was that was going through his head in the car, but then, what would he say, what _could_ he say? “So when exactly did watching my back turn into watching my ass, Steven?” Or, “So when were you going to tell me about the whole _liking my dick_ thing, before or after you asked me to the prom?” And Steve would laugh at that thought, if this wasn’t such a fucking disaster waiting to happen. Whatever’s going on in Danny’s head, Steve guesses that the reason Danny’s been holding back on him is that he doesn’t actually want to say anything that might wreck their partnership for good, even if somehow he’s found out about the totally inappropriate thoughts his partner’s been having about him. In Steve’s head the whole thing is a twisted fuckup, and he wonders if talking – or fighting - about it would actually solve anything.

The hours stretch out, long and boring without Danny’s constant bickering and bitching. He can tell that Danny’s tired, and that Danny’s fighting it all the way, the stubborn bastard. Seeing Danny strung out like that does things to him, brings out a weird feeling of protectiveness that he doesn’t want to examine too closely, that has been growing steadily alongside the baseline level of _want_ that’s been getting harder to ignore. Eventually he gives in to it, says “Danny, why don’t you get some rest? Lie down and take a nap, I’ve got this. I’ll wake you if anything happens,” and he’s totally sure he doesn’t imagine the look of alarm that flickers across Danny’s face, and fuck, does Danny really think that Steve’s going to _molest him in his sleep_ or something? That pisses him off, so he gets stern, “Danny. Bed. Now,” and yeah, Danny must be shattered because he just goes without a fight, pretty much out like a light as soon as his head touches the pillow.

Asleep, Danny looks younger, and strangely vulnerable, a hint of who he must have been before becoming a cop, before Rachel, before the whole bitter mess that ripped him away from home and family and brought him here to Hawaii and Steve. Steve’s not sure he should be watching Danny like this, it feels strangely... intimate, like he’s intruding on something private and personal, but he can’t help himself. He fights back the urge to reach out and touch the lock of hair that’s fallen down over Danny’s forehead, because, really, he doesn’t want to be that creepy guy, but then Danny shifts and moans slightly, a low, breathy sound, and suddenly Steve’s mind is right where he was trying so hard not to let it go.

The thing is, there are all sorts of things he’s been trying not to think about doing to Danny, _with_ Danny, all sorts of hot and dirty and just plain _wrong_ things, but right now he’d just like to take his time, get Danny naked and easy on that bed and explore him, smooth his palms over the swell of Danny’s muscles, trace the pattern of veins and sinews under Danny’s skin with his tongue, lick his way into all the most sensitive places on Danny’s body until Danny’s incoherent and wanting under his touch. So yeah, it’s all too easy to imagine doing all that to Danny here and now, on this bed, no one to see and the job forgotten.

Danny moans again, flexes his body and rolls onto his back, one arm flung over his eyes, and oh god, Steve can’t miss it, Danny’s hard, dick jutting against the fly of his khakis, clearly dreaming about something _very_ personal, and now it really is so very, very wrong that Steve’s watching him. For one awful, unprofessional moment Steve’s torn between giving in to his baser desires and getting his eyes back on the house they’re supposed to be watching, but he’s in control, they’re here to do a job, so with a commendable effort of willpower he turns back to the monitor.

And oh fuck, he nearly missed it, there’s a black car turning into the driveway of the house, one of the suspects is standing in the lit doorway waiting, and they need to move _now_. Two steps and he’s got his hand over Danny’s shoulder, poised to shake him awake, and that’s when he hears Danny say it, clear as anything, no mistake. The shock of it stops him dead, freezes him for a long second, but they’ve a job to do, the suspects are on the move, there’s no time now, so Steve tucks it away into the back of his brain for future consideration and rouses Danny, “Danny. _Danny_. C’mon, partner, up and at ‘em, we’ve got movement!”

But he knows what he heard, heard it loud and clear.

Danny said his name. In the middle of a sex dream. And what the fuck conclusion is he expected to draw from _that_?


End file.
